


Cooking Up a Cover

by capnwho



Series: Rounding Up a Romance [1]
Category: Magnum P.I. (TV 2018)
Genre: Cooking Lessons, Everyone knows except Higgins, F/M, Fake Marriage, Fluff, Not-So-Secretly In Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-27 04:14:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21385918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capnwho/pseuds/capnwho
Summary: Magnum and Higgins pose as newlyweds to take a cooking class.How hard can it be?
Relationships: Juliet Higgins/Thomas Sullivan Magnum IV
Series: Rounding Up a Romance [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1543831
Comments: 23
Kudos: 177





	Cooking Up a Cover

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes, you can be working on multiple WIPs that you really do enjoy, and then your brain goes, “NO! Write fake married pwp!”
> 
> So then this happens, and it’s not even adult, but hey, when the characters demand a fade to black, who am I to argue? It’s what I get for working with strong-willed characters.
> 
> I haven’t written for this fandom before, and I was aiming to match the tone of the voiceovers without actually switching to first person, so this is pretty different for me, and I had a lot of fun.
> 
> No real specific spoilers. Vaguely season two, maybe later.

Like most of their missions, this one is off to a pretty good start. Magnum and Higgins are playing a role, one that lets them get close to their suspect who, this time, is head chef at one of those trendy places that teaches tourists how to cook.

“Are you sure about this, Magnum?” Juliet asks, just above a whisper. They have a corner of the kitchen to themselves, but sound can still carry across the shiny, stainless steel surfaces.

“You mean pretending to be newlyweds?” He looks at her, making sure the mock surprise is plain on his face. “You were the one who wanted to pretend to be married last time.”

“Not that,” she hisses, clearly a little louder than she means to; the couple nearest them turns to look, and she has to quickly plaster on a pleasant smile. 

Magnum hides a smirk. It’s possible he enjoys it just a little too much when he ruffles his partner’s feathers. “Then what do you mean?” he asks, pure innocence.

Juliet glares before she answers. He really should probably feel offended. 

“I mean,” she says, pulling her smile into place again and shifting her tone to one that’s a bit more conversational, less likely to draw attention, “that I’m not certain you can behave yourself in a cooking class.”

“I can cook,” he objects, grabbing one of the knives to demonstrate how skilled he is with cooking utensils.

Juliet responds in the same mild tone. “I never said you can’t cook. I said you can’t behave. There’s a difference.”

“I can behave.” Of course, right when Magnum tries to defend himself, the head chef clears her throat. Loudly. Thomas looks her way, only just managing not to cringe when he sees she’s glaring at him and Juliet. If looks could kill, then Madame Auclair would definitely be charged with murder.

Then again, the other three couples, all of whom are looking their way, don’t look all that pleased, either. And besides, they’re not looking for a killer, just a thief. Still, this probably isn’t the sort of attention they want out of someone who targets loving couples.

“Mr. and Mrs. Hanson,” Auclair reprimands using their aliases, “if you are quite finished, I was trying to give the first round of instructions.”

Time to turn up the charm. “I’m so sorry about that, Madame Auclair,” Magnum says, taking a step back and wrapping an arm around Juliet’s waist without looking. “I just got a little carried away talking to my lovely bride here.”

Juliet is always quick on the uptake, and she rests her head against his shoulder. He’s sure she’s grinning winningly, just like he is. “Yes, we’re ever so sorry.”

The chef seems mollified. Maybe even a little charmed; there’s the slightest hint of a smile before she shakes her head and turns away. 

“‘We’re ever so sorry,’” Magnum can’t resist teasing under his breath.

Juliet pats him a little too hard on the chest before stepping away, but Magnum knows her way better than he knows their teacher. Higgins is  _ definitely _ a little charmed.

Not that she would admit it, not even under pain of death. The same as there’s no way Magnum would admit that he, a grown man who doesn’t do things like fall in love with his partner, can still feel where she was pressed up against him.

He’s used to that, though, noticing when they make contact. He’s usually pretty good at not being creepy about it. Like now, when he’s totally focusing on what Madame Auclair is saying.

It’s something about chopping.

Higgins gets him on track with a well placed nudge and a pointed look, and then they’re both chopping vegetables. It’s easy, even comfortable, until Magnum remembers they’re trying to accomplish something. He looks around and sees that the chef is definitely paying more attention to the couples who are more hands on with each other. 

Juliet, of course, notices at the same time. She leans in close to him, just about batting her eyes before talking in low, suggestive tones. “We should probably act more like newlyweds,” she says, “if we want to be her next target. Assuming you’re right about the culprit.”

“Of course I’m right.” Magnum lifts his chin slightly and then leans even closer. “I’m always right. Usually.”

“Usually or always?”

Magnum looks down at her, and she’s so close that it would take exactly zero effort to kiss her, and they’re pretending to be newlyweds, so he has the perfect excuse…

Except he doesn’t want that. If he kisses her--when he kisses her--he wants to know that they both actually want it and aren’t just playing a part. The rest of the contact, though, he can do that while keeping his head straight. He’s used to it.

What was he saying?

Before he can manage a comeback, Juliet turns so she’s whispering into his ear. “She’s watching. Keep up the act.”

Act. Right.

It’s a job, and Magnum does pretty well with jobs. He pours himself into the role after that. He gives half his attention to listening to the instructor, and the rest of it goes to being as much the loving husband as humanly possible. 

He helps Juliet chop the onions when they make her tear up, with only minimal teasing before he steps in.

He puts an arm around her waist while she stirs the pot.

He stands behind her, putting both arms around her and lowering his chin to her shoulder when they take a break between steps, taking a moment to relish the way it feels when she leans back against his chest. 

Okay, maybe he enjoys it for more than a moment.

Still, his favorite part isn’t playing pretend. His favorite part comes when he realizes they’re almost done cooking.

“What is this supposed to be?” he asks, turning Higgins toward him so he can look down at her lovingly.

It takes Juliet a second to realize he’s talking about whatever dish they’re making and not a utensil or something, but when she does, she bursts into genuine laughter. Magnum’s smile at the sight is automatic. She rarely lets her guard down this far, far enough to tip her head back and laugh, to let him take some of her weight as he wraps his arms around her to keep her upright. He knows her trust isn’t just an act.

This time, it takes some actual effort to keep from kissing her, and by the way her laughter slows as she looks back at him, the way she stills, almost imperceptibly, her eyes wide with realization, tells Magnum that maybe she finally noticed.

He is so screwed. Maybe, if he’s lucky, she won’t sic the boys on him. 

Juliet turns away abruptly, stirring whatever it is they put all the tomatoes into, and says in her normal, unperturbed tone, “Really, Magnum. We’re making chicken parmesan. Clearly.” 

“Clearly.” Magnum clears his throat. He risks a glance at the instructor, who’s definitely about to turn their way, then rests a hand on Juliet’s back. “Sorry,” he murmurs, hating to have to touch her when she’s probably not comfortable with it.

“Whatever for?” she asks, voice even. She doesn’t look at him, keeps her eyes firmly on the pot, but she does lean into his touch.

Message received: she’s okay with this much, at least.

He goes back to his act, making sure it’s all surface, and he even makes it all the way to the tasting before he feels like he loses his grip again, because as the instructor makes her way over to them, Juliet takes Thomas’s hand and looks up at him, and that look? It’s not the fake one, not the simpering newlywed who just wants to make a good impression on her teacher. No, it’s  _ her _ look, the one she gives him when they’re arguing, the one that says she’s pissed off at him but also that she’s actually kinda into it.

Maybe it’s a look he’s spent a little too long thinking about.

Anyway, when she looks at him like that, his breath slows and then speeds up, and he almost forgets they’re even playing a role.

Madame Auclair doesn’t let him forget for very long. “Oh, look at you two and this wonderful dish you’ve made!” She gushes over them for several minutes, tasting the food--which is pretty damned good, if he does say so himself--and then invites them to a special, private session later that evening.

_ Bingo. _ That “special, private session” is what all the people who’ve been robbed have in common.

Madame Auclair needs a couple hours to clean up and then prep for their session, so Mr. and Mrs. Hanson are supposed to return to the kitchen promptly at 6pm.

Which means that Madame Auclair will be busy until then.

Magnum heads straight toward the suspect’s room, Juliet right by his side. She’s come to the same conclusion as he has, of course, that it’s the perfect time to see what the chef might be hiding. They get in the elevator, and Juliet punches the button for the third floor, where temporary staff stays. The elevator starts moving, and the atmosphere is ridiculously charged.

“Juliet,” he starts, quiet, not even sure what he’s going to say.

“Not yet,” she interrupts.

Which, honestly, is a better reaction than he was expecting. Surely, if she were going to shoot him down, she would’ve told him a little more blatantly to fuck off, right?

In her perfectly polite British manner, obviously.

The elevator dings as it slows to a stop, the doors opening and revealing a long hallway.

“She’s in room 301,” Magnum says. “It should be down around that corner.”

They make it around the corner and to the door. Luckily for them, this place is pretty old fashioned, and the main building doesn’t actually house any guests, just staff, so they haven’t bothered switching away from keys and over to keycards.

This type of lock isn’t all that hard to pick, and it doesn’t require anybody to be tech savvy.

Magnum hasn’t even started working the lock when the elevator chimes again, the sound of the doors whooshing open followed by footsteps headed in their direction. They’re out of sight right this second, but they won’t be for much longer, and they have no reason to be here.

Higgins pulls him up from the lock and positions them so she’s in between him and the wall.

“Kiss me,” she says, lacing her hands behind his neck and pulling him close. He stops with his forehead against hers, somehow resisting.

“I don’t like being this person,” he whispers despite knowing they’ve got seconds at best, “you know, the dramatic one, but I really don’t want to kiss you just for a cover. I don’t want to kiss you unless we both mean it.”

“Thomas Magnum,” Juliet whispers back, somehow sounding long-suffering despite the low volume, “you are  _ always _ the dramatic one.”

Then she pulls him toward her and leans in and presses her lips firmly against his. He freezes for a fraction of a second, then returns the pressure. He rests one hand against the wall for balance and the other at her waist.

She kissed him  _ after  _ he said he wanted it to mean something. That means this means something, right? Something good, and something terrifying, because Thomas hasn’t felt this way about a woman in a long time, and now that woman is parting her lips to deepen their kiss and he is so very screwed.

Someone clears their throat behind him, and it takes Magnum a second to regain his senses. A second later, he realizes that the sound was distinctly male, so it probably wasn’t Madame Auclair. Less than a second after  _ that _ , he realizes this particular throat clearing sounded familiar.

“Hey guys,” says Rick, and that’s followed by the jingle of keys. “I got your way in, and TC’s making sure nobody comes up the elevator.” There’s a deliberate pause, and Magnum uses it to gather himself and pull back. Juliet looks distractingly rumpled considering they weren’t actually kissing all that long, and she pulls her lower lip into her mouth like she’s trying to get one more taste of him, and Magnum swears that turning away from Juliet to face Rick is one of the hardest things he’s ever done in his life.

“So,” says Rick, overly casual, “anything you two wanna tell me?”

“Nope.” Juliet’s response is immediate.

Magnum’s comes right on its heels. “Just blending in.”

“Uh huh.” Rick studies them, but either they’re better at acting than Magnum thinks they are, or his good friend decides to let it go.

For now. Magnum’s sure he’ll hear more later.

Higgins neatly snatches the keys and unlocks the door.

“Aww, Higgy,” Magnum whines, “why you gotta ruin my fun?”

She glares at him before opening the door, but it’s  _ that _ look again, so Thomas just grins. He practically hears Rick roll his eyes.

But then they have the room open, and there are wallets  _ everywhere _ , so they call in the police to help, and then they get cursed at by a very handcuffed French chef, and it’s all just a bit too hectic to process anything.

That is, until they get back to Robin’s Nest, with everything settled and their client happily reunited with the irreplaceable photograph in his wallet. At that point, it feels like maybe there’s a little bit too much to process.

Juliet doesn’t retreat as soon as they get back, which is a good sign, especially when he combines it with the whole thing where she kissed him. 

He’s not a hopeless romantic or anything, anyway. Really. He is head over heels for Juliet, sure, but if she just wants to be partners, he’s okay with that. Honest.

It’s just, well…

That kiss in the hallway was pretty good. Really good, even. He wouldn’t mind doing that again. A lot. And then maybe doing a little more.

Assuming that she’s interested in doing that sort of thing. 

“Stop,” Juliet says, and it’s so sudden and firm and close that Thomas jumps. She’s standing right next to him, and she’s looking up at him, and there’s no way she’s looking at him like that if she doesn’t want him, right?

“Stop what?” It’s something he’d say if he were trying to wind her up, but this time, he genuinely has no idea.

“You’ve been silent for a solid ten minutes,” Juliet says, “which has to be a record. And in that time, I’ve watched you go from panicked to hiding your feelings and then back to panicked.” She takes the untouched drink from his hands and sets it next to her own.

Thomas doesn’t even remember either of them  _ getting _ drinks.

“In the elevator, what were you going to say?” Juliet asks. Their legs are touching, just barely, but since he is leaning back against the counter, there’s still some space between their torsos.

“I’m not sure,” he says, then swallows. This is stupid. He’s been through so much; is this really what he’s going to let scare him? She’s looking up at him, her face open, and hell yes. He’s terrified. But that doesn’t mean he has to let fear stop him. “Probably something stupid like how I’m in love with you,” he blurts.

He holds his breath as her eyes go big again, like somehow she still didn’t know how crazy he is about her. Maybe she just didn’t expect him to admit it. 

"Magnum," she whispers, soft. He's not sure he's ever seen her so soft, honestly, and he holds tight to the edge of the counter, because he wants to touch her more than he can remember wanting anything in his life, and if he's reading this situation wrong, he's going to fuck everything up.

Magnum isn't expecting her to say it back--she's got her hangups, same as he does; it's part of why they make such a good team--so he isn't surprised when she stops talking after his name. He isn't sure what she's going to do next, though, hasn't even let himself think this far, so when she takes his hands in hers, he swears his heart stops for a moment.

It starts again, pounding against his ribcage as she places his hands deliberately at her waist, two of his fingers landing against the soft skin just under the hem of her shirt, as clear an invitation to touch as he's ever been given. His caution melts away, leaving behind his normal, confident self.

He knows exactly how to touch, and now that he knows Juliet wants him to, he's going to make her head spin.

In a good way, of course.

Okay, maybe he’s still a little in his head on this, but he knows how to fix that. He lets his hands trail across soft skin until they’re behind Juliet’s back, pulling her closer in the process, and he leans in, and then his lips are on hers and they’re picking up where they left off in the hallway, only this time, they’re not about to be interrupted.

Thomas has been with enough women before to know that he appreciates it both when they let him take charge and when they take charge themselves. Higgins, of course, meets him right in the middle. It’s just like one of their bickering matches; they go back and forth, each giving as good as they get.

Alright, maybe Higgins has a slight edge.

Regardless, by the time they finish, Magnum is spent. He’s also a good deal more content than he ever figured he’d be again. They’re lying in bed--his, so the dogs remain undisturbed--naked, and Juliet is curled into his side, with a hand on his chest and her head on his shoulder.

Magnum could seriously get used to this.

“Thomas.” Juliet skims her fingers along his collarbone. “Tell me again.”

He thinks he has an idea of what she’s asking this time, but he doesn’t have to make  _ everything _ easy for her. “Tell you what?” She lifts her head far enough to look at him disapprovingly, and he chuckles, then swallows. Maybe he’s already said it, but he’s lost that adrenaline that gave him the courage earlier, and this is… Well, it’s a lot. “I love you, Higgins,” Magnum breathes.

She doesn’t quite smile, not really, but her expression softens, settles into a reflection of his own contentment, and he thinks that might even be better.

He is such a sap.

“Don’t think that means you’ve got it easy from here on out,” he warns, mock serious. “Nothing’s changed. I’m still gonna make bad decisions sometimes and steal your laptop.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” she says, and Magnum swears he sees a smile before she rests her head against him again. 

“I’m usually right, anyway,” he continues in the same attempt at a serious tone. “Like today, we solved this case so easily because I knew, right away, who the culprit was.”

“You were guessing!” Juliet protests. “You had no proof.”

He shrugs. “Doesn’t mean I wasn’t right. In fact, I think that makes it even more impressive.”

“Magnum.” Her voice is dry, and he just barely avoids a triumphant grin.

“It was a pretty good day.” It’s tricky, with her in his arms, but Magnum manages to hold up one hand and count off the fingers with his other. “Solved the case, made some damned good food, got the girl…”

Juliet makes to roll away, but Thomas follows, so she ends up on her back with him above her. She’s trying to look annoyed, but he can see the enjoyment in her eyes.

He’s serious this time, when he says, “I couldn’t have done any of it without you.”

Juliet’s expression softens again. “I know,” she whispers.

And when he leans in to kiss her again, she’s definitely smiling.


End file.
